


Reprise

by zonophone



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 03:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14782382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zonophone/pseuds/zonophone
Summary: Oikawa and Kageyama wrestle with the ever evolving story of heartache and failure that were their respective first loves, ten years or so in the making. There was never anything between them in high school but then doesn't that make it worse?





	Reprise

“First love?” Kageyama asks tentatively, as if coming out of a daze. It's so hot this summer.  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
“What's with this topic?”  
“It's the kind of thing you'd ask in this situation! Sleepover talk, that kind of thing,” Noya tells Asahi. Maybe he's been to many of these.

This isn't a sleepover, it's just training camp, Kageyama wants to say, but he's still unfocused, going with the flow of their conversation, the low humming whir of the fan, the loud chirping of insects outside the open window.

“Ah, I guess.”  
“Mine was Fujiko,” Hinata speaks loudly and as usual Kageyama can hear him clearly. “She sat next to me in Elementary School. Oh but there was also her twin brother, Fujima, I also liked him,” he nods wisely, like he wants to look mature beyond his years.  
“Isn't that just because you're an idiot and couldn't tell them apart?”  
“Kageyama, you're so mean! It wasn't that, my heart beat like waa crazy fast with Fujiko and boom ka with Fujima, it was different! But it was love! It surely was love.”

It surely was, the sentence repeats once or twice inside Kageyama's mind. It surely was love.

“For me, my sister's classmate, I saw her at their sports festival, her shorts were so short.”  
“Ah! An older woman! As expected of Tanaka!”  
“Keep it down, Peabrain.”  
“Who was yours, Tsukishima?”  
“What's it to you?”  
“So you haven't had one, huh?” They all nod with eyes closed, arms crossed.  
“Definitely hasn't. He's still a child.”  
“That sort of thing, it's just becoming aware of someone else. Nothing to get so excited about, you're not talking about relationships because none of you have had one.”  
“Tsukki! Have you?”  
“No, idiot.”  
“Ah, so it's just becoming aware of someone else,” that makes more sense, in Kageyama's mind, it's almost easy to answer in that case. “I see. Then it was my neighbor. I think.”  
“What do you mean 'then'?” Hinata asks, eyes rounded with curiosity.  
“What?”  
“Isn't that a strange way of phrasing it?”  
“He's just an idiot who's bad at speaking.”  
“Oi!”  
“Who was yours, Asahi?”  
“Uh, eh, I don't uh—”  
“So shy! Mine was...”

Kageyama loses track of the conversation once more, staring out the window into the darkness where the cicadas chirp loudly. Hinata forgets to turn the fan off—it was his duty that night—so Kageyama stays awake a while longer after the rest have all gone to sleep, listening to its whirring, close to his face, You'll catch a cold like that, Tobio—

 

 

 

 

 

 

“It wasn't your neighbor, like you said that time, huh?”  
“Wh-wha?” Kageyama turns sharply, buttoning up his shirt after practice. Tsukishima watches him from above his glasses, grinning like he's found something amusing.  
“I was in one of the stalls.”  
“Stalls?”  
“In the bathroom, you idiot.”  
“Isn't that—Gross, why're ya telling me?”  
“King stupid. After the match with Shiratorizawa.”  
“Ah! Th-that!”  
“Unless that guy was your neighbor?”  
“He wasn't.”  
“You're so honest.”  
“There wasn't anything—”

What had they talked about? Kageyama hadn't reached out to take those stupid glasses off Oikawa's face when he said 'I heard some girls talking about confessing, that made me want to come see your match.' Kageyama hadn't said anything to that, though, he'd just shrugged. 'I wanted to see Ushijima's face when you beat him. It was rather disappointing.' Ah, maybe that was it. The tone of his voice? Kageyama had asked 'You were that sure we were gonna win?' and it hadn't come off sarcastic, or dismissive, or impolite. It'd come off hopeful, despite everything. Certain things really are hard to shake.

“You asked him for advice, huh?”  
“?”  
“He said. That time.”

He had. After he'd taken the glasses off himself. 'It's annoying knowing I helped you and the shrimp.' Had he said anything else? Shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes and sighed dramatically, 'Guess I just couldn't help it, either, wouldn't want my cute kouhai to become a dictator again.' Kageyama hadn't replied. Oikawa used 'cute' to tease him. It used to make him happy, it used to be something he held onto—something he'd held onto for years, deep inside, like his crying face at graduation ('I guess I am gonna miss you...Not'), childish and mean, and the way he'd covered Kageyama when he fell asleep on the floor of the gym next to the fan 'You'll catch a cold like that, Tobio,' and brushed the hair away from his sweaty forehead because he thought Kageyama was asleep. It was no longer so but surely, it once was love.

“I needed help with Hinata asking me for a better serve.”  
“Hm. And you went to him.”  
“He's—It's no longer like that.”  
“Eh? Ah. Yeah. Guess I was the one who asked you about that, anyway. Not that I cared. Just wanted to tease you.”  
“Wh—”  
“It might not be hopeless, after all. He's jealous.”  
“Hah!?”

Was it the way Oikawa's voice had faltered then, before walking away? 'It's annoying, you know, how the shrimp thinks you're better with him, stronger with him. I don't like it.' Kageyama had asked him ‘Why?’ though, some things are hard to shake. Maybe he wanted to hear it. 'Cause you believe it.' That was just the same hopeless hopefulness he'd held onto for so many years.

“You're wrong. You don't know him. How awful he is—”  
“Yeah, yeah. I don't wanna hear it, either.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
“You shouldn't lie like that,” Iwaizumi keeps looking at the snow below their feet as they make their way back to their apartment complex.  
“Huh? When'd I lie?”  
“You—before!” Now he looks at Oikawa, though, frowning painfully. Must be painful at least.  
“I don't—Ah, when they asked?”  
“You blurted out so happily 'My first love was Iwa, of course.'”  
“Urgh, you look seriously gross when you try to imitate me.”  
“Of course I would! You do too.” And back to the snow crunching under their boots.  
“It's not a lie, anyway. I loved you then as I love you now.”  
“I don't think that's what they meant.”  
“They asked who was my first love. In the end they only asked because they wanted to talk about theirs. It's a popular pick up line, too. If you say it was me girls will think you're sensitive. And that you got your heart broken by someone like me, it'll give you so many points.”  
“I don't care about those things. You could've told them the truth.”  
“Why? It was never like that. I liked the attention he used to give me, looking at me with those adorable eyes, following my every movement. I never once intended to—”  
“Sometimes I wonder if you can actually tell when you're lying or you really think it's true.”  
“I never lie, Iwa! All that attention. It just made me hate myself anyway.”  
“As usual, it's better when you're cheerful. Don't be so hard—or be. I don't know.”  
“Anyway, it's over now. He's no longer... He's looking elsewhere.”  
“So you've decided what his feelings are all on your own.”  
“Iwa, you're so inexperienced,” Oikawa sighs. Really, sometimes he worries about Iwaizumi, so pure in this wretched, awful world. “I know these things.”  
“Gross, go back to self loathing.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
“Kageyama, who was your first love?”  
“Um, a senpai in middle school.”  
“What?!” Hinata's loud voice makes the rest of the people at the table shut up. “Who was it?!”  
“Eh, I thought you two were best friends?”  
“It's the first I hear of this! In middle school?” He gasps loudly, so loudly Kageyama can see the drinks inside their glasses shaking. “Iwaizumi?!” Hinata slams his open palms on the table, one of the glasses topples over. At least it's empty.

Everyone else at the table is now silently watching this unfold. Kageyama only came to this goukon because Hinata begged him to. He wants to just leave. He shakes his head, frowning, increasingly angry by the minute.

“Then who? Were there some cute—It wouldn't be the Grand King, would it? Haha, there's no way, since—right? There's—No! No way!”

Kageyama can feel the tip of his ears heating up, prickling sensation right by his cheekbones, the same he would feel when he was called out in English class and some classmates laughed.

“That's—”  
“Uoo you could've told me before!!”  
“Just forget it.”  
“Who was your first love, Hinata?” Yuuichi asks, probably to regain the flow of conversation they'd had up to that moment.  
“A pair of twins! Fujima and Fujiko, they...”

 

 

Kageyama knows Hinata won't forget though. He'll bring it up later and Kageyama will tell him everything there is to tell, which is nothing much, really. It used to be so much more difficult, to even say it out loud. Now it's probably as meaningful as Hinata was to those twins, as they were to him, just being aware of someone else, wanting them to look at you, secretly holding onto all the tiny things they'd do, feeling empty every time your request was rejected, every time they smiled at someone else in a way they'd never smile at you, and hopelessly happy every time they paid you any attention, even if it was just to make fun of you, to let go of a ball so you'd fall in the middle of a packed sports gymnasium, to let you know you had no right to get cocky, cause you'd only won once against them, lost once too. Now it's nothing but memories that don't even sting. It's kind of sad, in its own way, how those things that used to be so important, so meaningful, so painful, are now words as simple as those. A senpai in middle school, someone I listen for, sometimes, but ultimately nothing more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Geh,” Oikawa clicks his tongue and purses his lips. “Did you go out of your way to come here?”  
“The coach recommended it,” Kageyama says, taking off his jacket and taking a seat while Oikawa looks over his file.  
“Hm. I don't feel like treating you, but since you especially requested for me, my bosses said I had to.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Hm, yeah,” still the same, with the slight bow, like he really meant it. “You'll be in my care.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Take off your shirt,” he says.

Oikawa's hands apply gentle pressure on Kageyama's muscles, his fingers spreading here and there to push, and the tenseness he thought would be there doesn't even rear its face, like a rote movement he can do away with any of its lingering traces, he's been dealing with it for years, it's the same as adjusting to an injury, his body no longer notices anything was ever any different. He'll get used to the shoulder too. Oikawa's a professional so of course he wouldn't falter, he wouldn't think of anything other than work, in this situation, Kageyama's back exposed. Kageyama seems so calm, as if none of this were bothering him. Oikawa can't be the only one holding onto something. He can't be. He isn't. He isn't because he feels nothing, in this situation, this is just another patient, his back exposed, the constellation of moles he'd never seen before, or seen once in passing and tried forgetting about. He can't be.

“Oikawa,” Kageyama asks softly. “Who was your first love?”  
“Iwa, obviously,” he says, his hands not having hesitated (not at all), not having lost their pressure (and if they did it was intentional.)  
“Ah. Obviously.”  
“Why are you asking something like that? Is this the start of a cheesy line, like 'You look just like my first love' and then you sigh and—”  
“Well, it's more like—you do, since...” Kageyama doesn't say anymore, lets Oikawa lift his arm from behind.  
“Since what?” He doesn't mean to sound so irritated but it's so damn hard when Kageyama's being so, so Kageyama.  
“Just, forget it.”

Oikawa doesn't reply and Kageyama doesn't push it. The loud clock on the wall ticks away the last ten minutes of their session wrapped in silence. Oikawa washes his hands very thoroughly, turned away from Kageyama who's getting into his clothes again, and he doesn't turn back when he finally speaks.

“Come back in a month.”  
“Ah, okay.”

Kageyama steps closer to the door and then, in spite of himself, stupidly, Oikawa turns to watch his back.

“Good luck, Tobio.” He's surprised to find he means it. He feels so old.  
“Ah, yes,” Kageyama turns and bows. He thinks it's nice. Being able to speak with Oikawa and not feel an ounce of pain. He's unsure if he just dreamt all those other feelings. Maybe he did. “You too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
“Argh, it drives me insane, Iwa.”  
“I don't see why it should.” Iwaizumi isn't looking at him, he's chewing on his second burger, alternating it with greasy fries.  
“He really asked for me, specifically.”  
“He knows you, of course he would.”  
“It's all so awkward. I don't like it.”  
“Why's that?”  
“Don't talk with your mouth full. You're not a teenager anymore, why do you eat so many burgers, anyway. No manners.”

Oikawa's only agreed to being here because Iwaizumi said this was the only time they could meet, during their lunch break, but if he'd known—if he'd known he would've forced Iwaizumi to go somewhere other than a Denny's. Maybe Jonathan's. Anything would be better, he thinks, sipping some fruity liquid thing—not juice, surely—from a straw.

“Why's it awkward?” Iwaizumi wipes his mouth with a paper napkin.  
“Huh?”  
“Having him as a patient,” he says before biting into the burger once more.  
“There's this atmosphere—”

It'd be a lie if he said the worst part is that Kageyama seems not to care, seems to have forgotten all about his middle and high school infatuation, left him behind in the way Oikawa swore he'd never be able to. In or out of the court. It's a lie because obviously Oikawa's left Kageyama behind too, he's the one who's forgotten all about it—No, more like, he's the one who never had any feelings in the first place, right, it was always just Tobio following after him, watching his back, always Tobio.

“This weird thing where we were never lovers but it feels like we're exes. Nothing happened, damn it! It shouldn't feel like this. I don't know how to act. There was nothing between us and it's still like seeing an old flame. It's irritating.”  
“Guess that's what makes it worse,” Iwaizumi's done eating and looking straight at Oikawa this time.  
“What is?”  
“Y'know, that nothing happened.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
“Uoo, so you really saw him,” Hinata stretches under the kotatsu, lays his head on its surface and watches Kageyama go about his apartment like they still share a place.  
“I told you I would.”  
“Isn't it like romantic?” Hinata's drawing something on the surface of the kotatsu with his fingers, maybe writing.  
“R-Romantic? What are y—?”  
“Is he single?” he raises his head suddenly, face beaming.  
“Single?! I don't know, why should I—?”  
“Isn't this like a precious opportunity? To relive your first love?” Hinata looks and sounds too fired up. Kageyama can feel a headache edging on the side of his skull. “Isn't it like really really wham like most people don't get to do this!”  
“There's nothing to relive. I told you, it was never like that.”  
“Uh huh,” he nods, eyes closed, wishing to look as mature as his years and failing as usual.  
“What?”  
“In that case, there's no harm in asking, is there?”  
“Asking?”  
“If he's single! It's not like he's your ex or something. If he asked me I wouldn't find it strange.”  
“Yeah. I guess.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You weren't here last time,” Kageyama unbuttons his shirt, another rote movement.  
“Hm. I was on leave. I can't be here all the time, for you, you know? I have my own life.”  
“I didn't know you wore glasses.”  
“Ah. I don't. They're—People say they suit me.”  
“Oh, like back in high school,” he sits on the gurney, back to Oikawa.  
“Back in high school?”  
“You told me you wore them to our match against Shiratorizawa because you'd heard some girls talking.”  
“Ah. I'd forgotten.”

Oikawa walks closer to the gurney and hesitates for a second before putting his hands on Kageyama's back. Why would he bring those things up? What's he to gain from it?

“I was on a trip,” Oikawa says, after a while. “With my partner.”  
“Oh.”  
“I got dumped though so I don't really feel like treating someone as annoying as you. Please try to be less you while we do this, yeah?” When he says 'try to be less you' he makes sure to intone his voice in the way he knows pisses Kageyama off.  
“Oh?” Kageyama turns to watch him, though. Grinning.  
“Urgh, why do you look so happy?”  
“Do I?”  
“I told you not to be so you.” Again, he emphasizes 'you', harder this time. Kageyama turns back, facing away from him.  
“I was just remembering, how embarrassed you were when your nephew shouted out you'd been dumped, how much you wanted to hide it. And now you just told me yourself.”  
Oikawa's hands retreat away from Kageyama's skin.  
“Why do you remember those things, they were so long ago.”  
“I remember a lot from back then,” Kageyama doesn't ask why Oikawa's stopped, assumes he must be getting more gel.  
“Yeah,” he puts his hands back on the shoulder, pushing gently. “I guess you do.”

He vaguely thinks of telling Kageyama Takeru will be graduating high school soon, and sometimes he helps out with the children’s team Oikawa coaches on his spare time, and he no longer tells Oikawa every single one of his secrets because he's grown and changed and his world is bigger, different.

“Things that seemed so important then, are like, fine now.”  
“Hm?”  
“Things that used to hurt, that used to embarrass me, things I didn't want people to know. They're almost trivial now.”  
“Ah. Yes. It's like that for me too.”  
“Well, at least you're still a volleyball idiot. That hasn't changed.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So,” Oikawa looks around the table they're sitting at, lips pursed. It doesn't smell particularly bad, but he looks like it did. “Why am I here, Shrimp?”  
“I just thought it'd be nice, getting together and all,” Hinata says too cheerfully, too loudly.  
“So you're reminiscing your high school days. Isn't that pathetic? Adults who are still hung up on high school are gross.”  
“But you aren't,” Tsukishima says, caustic tone, same as ever.

Oikawa's surprised he, of all people, showed up. Iwaizumi told him to go since Matsukawa and Kindaichi would but he didn't expect Date Tech guys to be there, or those Tokyo kids he's seen a couple times before. He didn't really expect anything, he didn't come here just because Kageyama asked him, during their last session. Didn't come because Kageyama said the shrimp wanted to meet up and Oikawa assumed that was an excuse, that Kageyama was the one who wanted to see him, and had learned to be less honest and upfront about things, more devious, smarter.

“No,” he waves his hand. “I've left all of that behind.”  
“Hm. I see.”  
“It's like a fresh start then!” Hinata really is too cheerful. Too loud. Still, after all these years.  
“A fresh start to what?”  
“I wonder,” he says and manages to give off the same carefree attitude he gave off at fifteen. Like he hasn't grown a day. It makes Oikawa feel so old he feels like throwing up. It isn't much longer before he excuses himself—Work early tomorrow—with his hands joined together and his best smile.

Kageyama walks out of the izakaya with him.

“You left because you'd be too lonely without me? How cute.”  
“I got stuff to do too.” It's the same routine, he's so used to it it barely registers anymore.  
“Do you want me to walk you home, Tobio?” Oikawa thinks of linking their arms but even he has a limit. He can tease Tobio all he wants but then all that teasing sometimes gets old, sometimes feels empty.

Maybe Iwaizumi's right, maybe if they'd been something Oikawa would know how to act around Kageyama, and he wouldn't fall flat on his face—figuratively—every time they interact, always pushing to the point where he's the butt of the joke, not Kageyama. Argh, pathetic.

“Sure. You can walk with me.”

Kageyama burrows into his coat and walks face down, staring at the wet pavement. He hopes it won't start raining again, on their way home, since someone stole his umbrella. The freshly cleaned night air is soothing, though, he'd been too hot inside the cramped space, all those loud voices, sunny like Hinata, a little dizzying. The breeze out here is nice, cuts through his skin with clarity, lucidity. He feels like smiling every time his elbow bumps against Oikawa's and Oikawa hmphs as if he were offended.

“So Tobio who was your first love?” Oikawa asks in a mocking tone, looking upwards at the clouded nightsky, looking almost orange after the storm.  
“You.”  
“Ha, that's funny.”  
“Is it?” Kageyama stops walking.  
Oikawa does too, a couple steps farther, and turns to him. “What is it?” he asks.  
“Why's it so funny?”  
“Because you were mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> more or less a sketch i couldnt keep myself from writin i wish i were able to write more--better?
> 
> open ended bc nothing's set in stone


End file.
